Elara’s POV, Twelve years ago The rain comes down hard enough to sting.I don’t move.“Again.”Varen’s voice cuts through the sound of it, sharp and flat, like it always is.I’m on the ground, palms scraping against wet wood, breath coming out unevenly. My arms feel heavy, like they don’t belong to me anymore. There’s mud on my knees, in my hair, and probably on my face too.I push myself up anyway.“But I did it,” I say, quieter than I want to sound.Varen rolls his eyes with no emotion on his face. “You fell,” he replies. “So you didn’t.”I glare at him, and he narrows his eyes back.“Don’t look at him like that,” Luxe calls from the side, his voice warm and amused. “He likes it when you get angry. Makes him feel important.”Varen scoffs.“I don’t like anything.”“You like pain,” Milo mutters, crouched nearby, fiddling with something in his hands.“That’s because pain teaches,” Varen says, shaking his ponytail like a horse before stepping toward me again.I groan, trying to stand
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